His Rightful Place
by Tempestt Londyn
Summary: Rodolphus's unholy thoughts interrupt dinner in the Lestrange household. Bellatrix's punishment reminds him of why she should never be taken for granted.


Disclaimer: I retain no rights to the Harry Potter series.

Warning(s): Contains coarse language, mature themes, mild B&D.

Author's Note: Inspired by "Make Me Proud" by Drake and Nicki Minaj, with slight inclusion of the lyrics. Is it any wonder this was almost a parody? Also, I apologize if my French is horrible. I may be spending too much time with Kiswahili and Portuguese.

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><p>:His Rightful Place:<p>

_"The neighbors will hear, Bella."_

_"Our closest are fifty miles away."_

_"Bella…I have to c-come…"_

_"When I allow it."_

This was how matters progressed that night—clothes ripped to shreds, bodies slammed against walls, agonizing, unbridled sex, throats grunts, unladylike comments—all in a twisted, tangled web of punishment.

Bellatrix dominating; Rodolphus at her mercy. Bellatrix abstaining from voicing his name, conveying thathe wasn't shit.

Tonight, he wasn't "Rod" or "Roddy," just her property.

Rodolphus panted hard, beads of sweat coating his eyebrows, falling onto his eyelids. He struggled, desperately twisting his body in hopes of freeing himself from the enchanted devil's snare which handcuffed him to the bed.

He was so fucking ignorant as to where Bellatrix had even gotten the shit from.

Rodolphus's eyes focused on the cat o'nine tails his wife caressed as she circled their bed, lip curled in her trademark, malicious smirk.

That damned whip would be the death of him.

"Do know that I am being quite gracious." Bellatrix declared, coming to a sudden stop. Perhaps she interpreted his silence as disrespect. Or maybe she tired of holding her tongue.

But Rodolphus knew better. The only reasonable explanation was that Bellatrix felt he'd forgotten why matters escalated.

"Je t'aime." He hummed as silkily as present circumstances allowed. It was a common practice, the traditional Lestrange technique. A Lestrange man professing his love for a woman was a surefire way to increase his opportunities. It mattered not whether the phrase was whispered as a sweet nothing in her ear or spoken genuinely. For a lustful teenager looking to sew his wild oats, this line had been gold for Rodolphus.

Bellatrix laughed, then smiled, and Rodolphus knew his trick had failed. Laughs and smiles were employed for when her intentions turned sinister.

"Save your bullshit." She snarled, curly black mane tickling his chest as she straddled him. Bellatrix appeared unbothered by his bruised, bloody skin staining her flesh. Then again, why would it affect her? She inflicted his wounds, delighted in his pain.

She chuckled darkly as the devil's snare tightened its hold, threatening to cut off Rodolphus's circulation.

"You disgust me." Bellatrix informed him, blood red fingernails, sharper than diamonds, raking down his chest. The sensation unnerved Rodolphus. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth in lieu of giving her the satisfaction of whimpering. But when she tugged, quite roughly, his manhood, Rodolphus dropped his pretenses and reached for her.

"I don't think so." His hand was slapped away just as soon as his index finger entered her folds. "You've been a very, very bad boy. No foreplay for you tonight."

How can she say that when she's the reason my abdomen is soaking? Rodolphus hadn't listened to a word Bellatrix expressed. The moisture at his chest was toying with his sanity.

"I'm a decent woman." She spat cruelly, her heavily lidded eyes looking down condescendingly. "Either of my sisters could've satisfied your whore fetishes, but you, unfortunately, belong to me."

Crazy bitch, he yearned to scream.

Anger overcame Rodolphus and he thrashed against the bed, throwing her from his chest. "You mean to tell me this is all because—"

"Shut up!" Bellatrix blindsided him with a ferocious slap. His head spun, eyes rolling about.

He knew she was a Legilimens, but Rodolphus couldn't sort out why Bellatrix chose to let this, of all things, ruin their dinner.

I'll have to become a better Occlumens.

If he were an Animagus, Rodolphus would've been a dog. Any man assuming a different form wasn't a man at all.

It was true, the saying—all men were dogs.

Men were unfaithful; men wanted in the knickers of every woman they met; men broke most women.

But Bellatrix wasn't most women.

Had it been so wrong for Rodolphus's mind to wander back to…his wife's sisters? Rodolphus liked a woman with both a future and a past. He simply had no time for virgins. The Black sisters hadn't been innocent, contrary to their parents' belief—this is why he'd found them attractive.

Narcissa was a nutcase. She'd advanced on him, yet in the blink of an eye, turned conservative. Narcissa was refused to try anything fun, anything beyond missionary position; she always came too quickly, became too easy.

Andromeda was a maniac—a liberal, nymphomaniac. She liked it hard, fast—all the sodding time. Even Rodolphus sometimes liked moderation. Andromeda did things he would've never thought of. He stopped indulging her upon hearing of the mudblood. Bloody disgusting. There's no telling what the unsuspecting Dolohov probably contracted from that harlot.

But Bellatrix was perfect. Or, rather, she complemented him. Her great looks matched his; she knew how to conduct herself; she knew how to satisfy him. That is, when she wasn't being an insufferable bitch of a witch.

Rodolphus sighed, regaining his bearings. He had brought this upon himself.

"Oh, still there are you?" Bellatrix laughed, re-entering their bedroom.

When the hell did she leave?

Rodolphus ignored her sarcasm.

"This 'crazy bitch' is going out." She continued, finality echoing as she glared at him in the mirror.

He didn't need to ask where.

Hand twisting the doorknob, Bellatrix scrutinized him. "You deserve much worse. Know your rightful place." She exited the room, slamming the door behind her.

Both parents in St. Mungo's.

A sister married to a mudblood.

Another wed to that spineless Malfoy.

One husband fantasizing.

An order from the Dark Lord.

_She's been through hell and back, that's why she's bad as fuck._

The muggles were certainly in for it tonight.

"Rendez-moi fier, mon amour."

Fin.

_Review, please!_


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